


Letters

by turnitoffmckinley



Category: The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Childhood Sweethearts, Kevin Price is a really great and supportive friend, Long Distance Relationship, Love Letters, M/M, Mentions of conversion therapy, good boyfriend Steve Blade, mcbladeley
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 07:02:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7564705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turnitoffmckinley/pseuds/turnitoffmckinley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I realized I was thinking of you, and I began to wonder how long you'd been on my mind. Then it occurred to me: Since I met you, you've never left."</p><p>-Unknown</p>
            </blockquote>





	Letters

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fic last September but never got around to publishing it. I hope you enjoy! This is dedicated to my dear friends Grace, Mary, and Julia whom all encouraged me to publish it :) 
> 
> Thank you, lovelies!

_Dear Connor,_

_I hope you waited 'till the plane lifted off to read my letter. I think I would tear up just trying to put my despair in words if I attempted to utter this out to you beforehand._

_I miss you, Connor. I'm writing this now and you haven't even left the states yet. I'm very worried for you. I know now it's too late for me to change your mind about your mission, but as your boyfriend, I feel authorized to worry about you._

_Please be safe. Please come home in one piece. Don't let anyone repress you or change you... Please don't do that "turn it off" thing again, when your parents sent you to that pray-the-gay-away camp our freshman year, your behavior was so unlike you... So sad, so lost. Don't do that to yourself again._

_By the time you make it back, I promise we'll have that apartment we dreamed about. We'll go to school in New York together- I'll play football and you'll be on Broadway. Only 730 days to go. I'm gonna count every moment until I see you again. I'll be there at the airport, waiting to hold you again._

_I'll send you a care package ASAP. I know how upset you were that you couldn't bring your bag of caramel popcorn on the plane._

_I love you so much, Connor McKinley. Don't turn it off. Never turn it off._

_With love, (lots and lots of it)_

_Your boyfriend Steve_

_.::._

_Dear Steve,_

_I hope you realize I went through my entire travel-on pack of tissues on the plane reading your letter. I had to tell Elder Thomas it was a letter from my parents so he wouldn't freak out on me. My companion eats a lot of pop tarts- he's sort of odd._

_I hope my response doesn't come too late in the mail. I can only send a letter twice every week because of postage, so the first one was sent to my parents, and then I had to wait a few days to send yours out. We don't have first class, so I can't guarantee how soon my letter will come your way._

_I got your care package! Thank you so much for the popcorn and gummy bears! The food here is quite subpar... Even Pioneer High's cafeteria sounds more appetizing right now than what I've been eating._

_Thank you for the pink vests- you always know my fashion taste! I just need the right moment to wear them!_

_You're lucky you didn't come with me- it's way too hot here to cuddle. I promise lots of cuddles when I come back! My companion fortunately doesn't fidget in his sleep, that would be troublesome. We can't open the windows because the mosquitos are bigger than my fist!_

_I'm trying not to have to turn it off. I know I promised you I wouldn't. The hell dreams are bad again, Steve. They keep me up at night. I shouldn't feel guilty for being... Who I am, because you love me and I love you. My guilty conscience keeps getting wildly imaginative, I guess. Next thing you know I'll be dreaming of tea parties with Lucifer..._

_I miss you too, Steve. It's only been a month, but this month is unbearable. Only 23 more to go before I see you again._

_That apartment idea sounds lovely. We should look into that, but only if I can paint our bedroom magenta!_

_I love you so, so very much! I promise I'll try and find a way to call you eventually. Letters are great but it's not the same as hearing your voice._

_I guess this is all I have to report on. No baptisms yet... The villagers don't seem to like us that much. Things are slow. Hopefully things turn around soon._

_Love you! :)_

_Your boyfriend,_

_Connor_  
  
.::.

The first time Connor had run away from home, they'd sent him away to "camp." At least, that's what Steve had been told by his boyfriend's parents. He knew it wasn't camp. 

Steve found that he had been thinking about Connor more than normal recently. Even while at NYU, little things reminded him of his redheaded love. 

He had been in Times Square when he'd spotted a sign for Les Miserables. He faintly remembered their high school performing that one- Connor had been... What was the character's name? It had started with an M. He went as far as to go through Connor's Facebook on his phone to find the character's name: Marius. Yes, he'd been spectacular.

Open windows and ladders made him think of the countless times Connor had snuck into his second-floor bedroom, climbing over the worn windowsills- the white ones with chipping paint, just to rest his head on Steve's chest and be reminded that he was loved and no matter what, Steve would protect him.

Steve wasn't there to protect him. He'd left the church his freshman year of high school, so he was ineligible to go on a mission with him. Not that he wanted to go to church or on a mission- but the thought of Connor on his own surrounded by people who would shun him if he came out was a troubling thought. 

Connor could take care of himself, Steve told himself over and over again, it's two years. In Uganda. He's the District Leader, which means he's capable.

He pondered what he should send Connor next. He'd been at the local goodwill when he'd seen the piles of pink sequin vests, a lucky find. Connor was always funny about those things- his prized possession was his pink tie but alas, his parents didn't think it was appropriate to wear in Uganda. 

Steve's blood boiled at the thought of Connor's relatives. The lot of them, the way they treated him. They were good pretenders- to everyone on the outside, they were just an ordinary, Mormon family. On the inside, Connor's life was hell, he was unable to tell what they were thinking, always wondering when they'd pull the plug on his bank account and take his college funds which were already deposited and waiting for him out of Uganda. He was buried in the closet. 

Only Steve knew how unstable Connor could be. His living conditions, his own mental health. Steve couldn't imagine being with anyone else, but he admitted that his relationship to Connor has always been complicated.

Sometimes their arguments played in his head like a scratched record, and he found himself depressingly incapable of thinking about anything else. 

He still can't believe Connor forgave his parents for sending him to a correctional facility.

Connor was not a bad kid. He was physically and mentally incapable of being mean, this is what Steve knew for a fact. They had sent him away, and he came back almost a shell of his former self. It had taken weeks to coax Connor out of muttering the phrase, "turn it off" whenever Steve asked him what had occurred.

He could only hope that everything was going to be okay. 

He had to. Otherwise, there would be no hope at all.

.::.

_Dear Connor,_

_You wouldn't believe the deals on Broadway shows you get as a student. You know I'm not a Broadway expert like you, but my roommate dragged me out to Phantom of the Opera with his friends- my dorm mate's also a drama major, isn't that neat?- only cost us 30$ for orchestra seats. It was fun. It'll be funner when you're attending with me. I'll send you those... I think they're called Dramatist Magazines? I know you love reading those and catching up on theatre news. They sell them right next to regular newspapers out here._

_How have you been feeling? Have you been eating properly? Do you need some water bottles? I can ship some of those. Would it help if I sent one of those mini wifi router things? I saw something like that on Amazon the other day. I don't know if they'd work in Uganda, though. It'd be worth a shot, you did take your laptop with you, right?_

_NYU is a very nice campus. I think you'll like it here. Lots to see and do. Have you heard of 54 Below? It’s a bar out on 54th street, and broadway performers hold small concerts. Heck, I can’t wait for the day when I’m there to see you perform._

_I saw posters up for a Les Miserables revival, that one’s one of your favorites, right? When you get back, I promise we’ll go see it._

_Not much else to report on out here, but I’ll keep you updated. I’m gathering some things for another care package, so let me know if there’s anything else I can send you._

_Love you, Con!_

_Your Steve._

.::.

He had no idea why he allowed himself to be swayed by Elder Price into staying in Uganda.

Sure, his parents would be disappointed if they learned that he’d failed his mission, but failing his mission meant coming home sooner to Steve, and that, to Connor at least, was highly invaluable. 

However, something in the optimistic, hopelessly determined voice of Elder Price, had made his already weak heart bloom with some sense of pride. As if what they were doing here in Uganda, no matter how sinful, could make a difference for the people here. So naturally, Connor opted to stay.

After the initial celebration, all of the elders and Ugandans swept up in the joy of conquering the tyrannical general, Connor found himself alone. Or, so he thought. He had quietly separated himself from the group, to leave himself to his thoughts and his thoughts alone.

“Elder McKinley!” 

Elder Price’s voice had once again startled him, despite it not being as loud as prior.

“Oh, uh, Elder Price!” Connor exclaimed, completely startled by his sudden appearance. He took a subconscious step back, wishing he hadn’t been caught trying to slip away.

“Is everything alright? You seem a bit down.” Elder Price seemed nothing but concerned. Connor offered the shadow of a smile.

“Nothing at all, uh, I just need a few moments to myself, I suppose.”

Elder Price shrugged nonchalantly. 

“If you say so. I’ll leave you to it, then.”

He turned to leave, Connor gratefully letting out a gust of breath that he didn’t realize he’d been withholding, before abruptly, he found Elder Price in his face again.

“Oh, and Elder McKinley?” 

“Yes?” Connor stammered, eyebrows raised in surprise. Elder Price’s lips quirked up in a grin.

“You don’t need to turn it off anymore, no one here is going to discriminate.”

With that, Elder Price turned on his heels and vanished back out of the hallway, leaving Connor’s cheeks red and warm, and incredibly flustered.

.::.

_Dear Connor,_

_It’s been a month and you haven’t sent any letters. Is everything alright? I’m sorry if it seems like I’m worrying too much, but that’s what boyfriends are supposed to do, right?_

_Please write me back soon. I miss you._

_Your Steve._

.::.

Over the next few months, the rules started to deteriorate within the mission hut. For one, the elders no longer had to restrict themselves to their mission companion- though Elder Price and Elder Cunningham were practically inseparable- and they stayed up later than 9 PM. They stopped abstaining from coffee, which while some were wary of the warm beverage, with encouragement from Elder Price, soon most of them were drinking it. 

Other things started to change as well. With each draft and edition to the Book of Arnold being written, the Elders became quickly more interactive with the Ugandans. There was a sense of community and acceptance.

Though happier with the General generally not interfering with their daily lives (and the further he stayed from Elder Price, the better), not all the Elders were happy. Well, one, in fact, but everyone knew what an actor he was.

Kevin was concerned for Elder McKinley. Okay, that was an understatement.

He was extremely worried for Elder McKinley. When he wasn’t putting on his usually cheery facade, the District Leader seemed holed up in his living quarters. When confronted, he put on a smile and pretended, but Kevin knew better.

Now, if anything, Kevin respected privacy. He for sure didn’t like it when Arnold went through his things, and knew Arnold would throw a fit if he touched any of his belongings, so he was very cautious when he tried to brainstorm a method to approach Elder McKinley without triggering anything too emotional, for with his constant hell dreams and lack of desiring to talk them out, Elder McKinley was the king of suppressed emotions.

Elder Thomas was a good distractor. He’d made a complete mess of poptart crumbs that particular evening, all over the kitchen, onto the carpet and furniture. On his defense, Elder Church had chased him and the box was open so the crumbs spread quickly.

Elder McKinley had groaned, looking accusingly at his mission companion, and then to Elder Church.

“You two are going to help me clean this up, or I’ll put you both on toilet duties for a week.” he snapped. Neither needed to be told twice.

Seizing his advantage, Kevin crept into his room. He knew he had to be quick, Elder McKinley could come in any moment.

Now, Kevin had never set foot into Elder McKinley’s living quarters. It was no different size than his own, with the familiar floral suitcase… and a lot of boxes?

Envelopes covered the tiny desk, some completely unopened, others littering the cluttered space and crumpled up.

Kevin seemed to recall Connor getting an awful lot of mail. He always assumed it was a bunch of care packages and letters from family, but the moment he scooped up one of the envelopes and read the name, he was taken aback in surprise.

_Dear Connor,_

_I’m really worried about you. I’ve sent you 10 letters now, love, and you haven’t replied to a single one. I know you’re getting these. Please write me back._

_I hope you’re not replying because you’re ‘turning it off.’ We talked about this Connor. I asked you not to do that to yourself. Unless… Connor, is there someone else? Be honest with me. I won’t be mad, I just want to know you’re okay. Please tell me you’re okay._

_I love you._

_Steve._

Kevin grew pale, feeling sick. He felt awful for invading Connor’s privacy, but now he felt like he had an answer.

Connor had a _lover._ Or boyfriend, one of the two, back in the states.

And he wasn’t writing him back.

Maybe he had been? He dug through a couple of letters.

_Dear Connor,_

_I passed freshman year of college! I’m already investing in our apartment together, I have a few paint swatches I’ll send to you. I’ll send pictures as soon as I foreclose the deal. I know it’s months away before you come home to me, but I can’t wait until I’m able to hold you again. Wait for me, Connor, because I’m waiting for you :)_

_Your Steve._

His suspicions were confirmed. The first letter he’d read was dated over three weeks prior, and the second, a couple of months.

Before Kevin could truly think, Elder McKinley’s voice erupted upon him.

“What are you doing!?” 

Kevin dropped the letter back down.

“Let me explain-” he tried to reason, but was cut off abruptly by the sudden tears in McKinley’s blue eyes.

“How dare you, I- those are none of your business- how… how much did you read?” His voice was cold and accusatory, emotion bubbling up from the raw recess of his throat, like a volcano ready to explode any moment. Kevin did his best to diffuse the situation.

“Enough to know you’re doing yourself more damage than necessary, Elder. Why haven’t you written Steve back?”

McKinley swallowed, surprised a bit by the statement, before he narrowed his eyes.

“Not your concern, Elder Price. Get out.” The way his name rolled off of his tongue was like nails grating across a chalkboard.

“You’re turning it off, aren’t you, and you’re scared to get help. Let us help you, Elder McKinley. You don’t have to hide yourself anymore. Is that what Steve would want, you to hole yourself in a closet for more than two years?” Kevin pressed on.

“You… you don’t know how Steve would-”

“But I do, he’s written it right here! In one of the earliest letters he’s written you!” Kevin exclaimed, snatching off another letter. _“Dear Connor, Don’t let anyone repress or change you… Don’t do that “turn it off” thing again after you came home from conversion therapy… that was not you, and will never be you_. Do you want to call him? I haven’t used my monthly call, you can-”

“No! I don’t want to talk to him! Please, get out of my room!” McKinley’s voice was barely below screaming, his whole body was shaking, face as red as his hair.

“But maybe you need to, _Connor,_ have you thought about that? He only wants the best for you. I only want the best for you, all of us are concerned about you. Do you know what I’ve heard the other elders say about you?” He bit his tongue on that one. Connor froze, stiffer than a stone.

“What do they say?” he said, hoarse, but still with traces of defiance.

Kevin cleared his throat nervously.

“They say you’re going insane. They think you’re… you’re crazy, Connor, because you don’t talk to anyone anymore and you’re always angry and depressed, you know that? And just because you smile while you do it doesn’t make you happy, we all know what you’re really feeling.”

“Get out.” Connor demanded.

Kevin raised up his hands in defense.

“Connor-”

“ _Kevin,_ leave.” 

He frowned, slowly moving to the door past Connor, who was still shuddering violently, breaths harsh and ragged.

“And Connor?”

 _“OUT, damn it!”_ Connor shrieked. Kevin frowned, still planted at the door.

“Think about my offer, please. And don’t do anything drastic.”

Connor waited until Kevin was gone before slamming and locking his door, marching to his bedside in frustration and practically throwing himself onto the dingy mattress.

Then, and only then, did he finally allow himself to cry.

It was going to be a long night.

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is mischief-broadway :)


End file.
